Son of the Smith
by HaveBookWillTravel
Summary: Leo Valdez, Bane of Gaea, Supreme Commander of the Argo II, and all-around awesome dude, has found himself in quite a pickle. He'd never really liked High Fantasy, yet now he finds himself in a world where dragons and magic are as common as slavery and sudden death. But the Repair Boy has been in worse situations before, and his new friend Dany has dragons of her own.


**Author's Note: **Yeah, another new story instead of getting my ass in gear on the other ones. I just can't help myself, y'know. But this idea has been with me since I began to immerse myself in the Ice and Fire fandom, and it hasn't left me alone yet, so I figured it must want to get out.

This story will begin during the final chapter of BoO, and on the boat ride to Astapor, respectively. Note that I have not read the _A Song of Ice and Fire_ books, at least not all the way through (I've just started CoC), hence the reason this is in the GoT crossover section. I am also still new to the Ice and Fire fandom (the third of May will be my three month anniversary), so any discrepancies or mistakes should be brought to my attention immediately so I don't embarrass myself fully.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing which already belongs to someone else, which is pretty much everything at this point.

**Warnings: **This fanfiction assumes you (the reader) have at least a passing understanding of both the Game of Thrones Universe as well as the Heroes of Olympus Universe (as well as Percy Jackson and the Olympians, but that goes without saying). There will be blood and gore, swearing, and quite possibly a few raunchy, smutty, sex scenes. Leo will also be himself, and that deserves a bit of a warning in itself. You have been warned.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Blood of Old Valeria**

* * *

Leo was dead.

He knew that with absolute certainty. He just didn't understand why it _hurt_ so much. He felt like every cell in his body had exploded. Now his consciousness was trapped inside a charred crispy husk of demigod roadkill. The nausea was worse than any carsickness he'd ever had. He couldn't move. He couldn't see or hear. He could only feel pain.

He started to panic, thinking maybe this was his eternal punishment.

Then somebody put jumper cables to his brain and restarted his life.

He gasped and sat up.

The first thing he felt was the wind in his face, then the searing pain in his right arm. He was still on Festus' back, still in the air. His eyes started to work again, and he noticed the large hypodermic needle retracting from his forearm. The empty injector buzzed, whirred, and retreated into a panel on Festus' neck.

"Thanks, buddy." Leo groaned. "Man, being dead sucked. But that Physician's Cure? That stuff is _worse_."

Festus clicked and clattered in Morse code.

"No, man, I'm not serious," Leo said. "I'm glad to be alive. And yeah, I love you too. You did awesome."

A metallic purr ran the length of the dragon's body.

First things first: Leo scanned the dragon's body for signs of damage. Festus' wings were working properly, though his left _medius _membrane was shot full of holes. His neck plating was partially fused, melted from the explosion, but the dragon didn't seem to be in danger of crashing immediately.

Leo tried to remember what had happened. He was pretty sure he had defeated Gaea, but he had no idea how his friends were doing back at Camp Half-Blood. Hopefully Jason and Piper had gotten clear of the blast. Leo had a weird memory of a missile hurtling toward him and screaming like a little girl...what the heck had that been about?

Once he landed, he'd have to check Festus' underbelly. The most serious damage would probably be in that area, where the dragon had courageously grappled with Gaea while they blow-torched the sludge out of her. There was no telling how long Festus had been aloft. He'd need to set down soon.

Which raised the question: where were they?

Below was a solid white blanket of clouds. The sun shone down directly overhead in a brillian blue sky. So it was about noon...but of which day? How had Leo been dead? He opened the access panel in Festus' neck. The astrolabe was humming away, the crystal pulsing like a neon heart. Leo checked his compass and GPS, a nd a grin sperad across his face.

"Festus, good news!" he shouted. Our navigation readings are _completely _messed up!"

Festus said, _Creak?_

"Yeah! Descend! Get us below these clouds and maybe-"

The dragon plummeted so fast, the breath was sucked out of Leo's lungs.

They broke through the blanket of white and there, below them, was a single ship in a vast blue ocean.

Disappointment immediately flooded Leo. He'd thought for sure Ogygia and Calypso had been waiting just below them, but there wasn't a sliver of land anywhere in sight. His throat tightened in frustration and sorrow, but he soldiered through his emotions and set his mind on the more immediate problems, chief of which being that this location was totally unknown.

Festus' teeth whirred in confusion, and Leo sighed, patting his mechanical friend consolingly.

"Don't worry, homes, it's not your fault," he assured the dragon despite the uncomfortable weight in his heart. "I must have miscalculated or something. But before we do anything, we need to figure out just where the hell we are."

He peered down at the ship, which sent a slight pang of loss shivering down his spine; while he'd take having Festus back over the _Argo II _any day, that boat had truly been one of the best things he'd ever built, and he'd certainly miss it. But he shoved those thoughts to the side as he considered the one below.

It didn't really look like much, to be honest. Sure, it was pretty big, quite a bit more so than the _Argo II_, but it was made entirely out of what looked like wood from this height. Its two masts bore canvas sails, and tiny dots that were probably people scurried about on deck. The whole thing looked like it should be in some museum of seafaring history, or it had rowed its way through some time portal.

He was so caught up in studying the vessel that he didn't notice they had company until Festus clanked at him.

Leo's eyes shifted focus to what he'd at first mistaken for pelicans or some other sea birds, but as they got closer, he realized that not only were they too big to be any sort of avian, they were freakin' _dragons_.

The largest was about the size of a Doberman, whose black scales were shot with red, while the others were cream with gold and green with bronze, respectively. They rose cautiously, eyeing Festus with undisguised curiosity. The only dragons Leo had encountered had been those sun dragons of Medea's and Frank's dragon transformation, but these three didn't seem to belong to the same species as either of them. They looked almost like what Festus might have had he been biological in nature rather than mechanical.

With a keening screech that grated on Leo's ears like Percy's shower songs (and man, could Seaweed Brain butcher the hell out of Taylor Swift's music), the big one sent a sputtering tongue of flames at Festus face, who snorted with amusement, and Leo translated that as, _Orly? Watch this_. The gold and bronze automaton leaned back and let a fire blast of his own fly free, putting the organic one's to shame.

Rather than dissuade the little ones from bothering Leo and Festus, this seemed instead to only make them excited, and they swept around Festus in a tight orbit, making little sounds that could almost be mistaken for chirps and squawks, and every once in a while shooting fire as if to impress their larger, non-biological kin.

Festus looked back at Leo with more bewilderment than a mechanical creature should have any right to, and Leo couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's predicament. "I think they're saying hi, buddy."

On the aft of the ship, Leo could just make out a pale dot that was probably a person gazing up at them. Reaching into his tool-belt, Leo withdrew a pair of little binoculars and stared through them. It was certainly a person, a female person to be more precise, one with hair that was a platinum blonde so pale that it looked white from this height. Her eyes darted worriedly among the dragons, and he guessed that they belonged to her.

Sweeping the other occupants of the ship's deck, Leo found that many had a dress code that made them look like Mongolian warriors or something, with a few sailor-types mixed in with the bunch. Their clothing and the gear that Leo could see caused a seed of worry to grow in his guts, and the dragons only made things worse.

"I don't think we're on Long Island anymore, Festus," Leo felt the need to say, and from his agitated drill noises, Festus agreed. "C'mon, let's get this over with. Maybe these folks'll have some idea where we are."

So Festus swooped down until he was flying level with the ship's poop deck. The organic dragons had alighted on the rails next to the woman he'd spied from above, and an older man who might have been her dad hovered behind her. From this close, Leo realized that she could only be a few years older than him at most, and he couldn't help but be stricken by the woman's beauty, even if he felt immediately guilty afterward. He forced his mind away from thoughts of Calypso and waved merrily.

"Howdy! You speak English?" he asked hopefully.

The girl glanced back at the man with a query in her purplish eyes, but he shrugged with the shake of his gruff head. Turning to face him once more with a frown, she spoke. "I know not what English is, but I must assume it is the name your people have given the language we are currently speaking."

Leo could tell that she was trying her best not to gape at the utterly badass construct that was Festus. "I, ah, I guess you call it something different? Well, it doesn't matter, as long as we can understand each other. I'm Leo. This is Festus. We're kinda lost, and we were wondering if you could point us toward New York? Or the nearest phone?"

Again, the girl looked to her elder for guidance. This time, the man stepped forth himself. "We know of no place by that name, nor I fear do I know what a 'phone' is," he said in a gravely voice. "I can tell you that we are just about to enter the Gulf of Grief on the way to Slaver's Bay, if that means anything to you."

That seed of worry in Leo's belly? Yeah, it had developed into a mighty oak of despair. He and Festus shared a look. "We've certainly found ourselves in a pickle this time, pal."

Then he gave the pair what he hoped was a winning smile. "I don't suppose you'd give us permission to come aboard and figure a few things out, would you?"

The man turned to the captain and barked a few words in a sharp language before nodding to Leo. "You may do so, however your dragon is too large to set even a leg upon this ship without dooming us all."

Leo smirked; Festus was nearly the length of this boat by himself, but he hadn't spent all that time simply fixing up a bland body for Festus, oh no. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? Festus, set me down, would ya? Then initiate Stealth Protocol 2."

Festus got as close as he could to the ship, and Leo hopped down nimbly, then grabbed onto the closest bit of his automaton he could reach, which happened to be his left pointer claw. As soon as they were in contact, Festus began folding in on himself until he was back in his rolling case form. Luckily, Leo had figured out how to lessen the titanic weight contained within by means of a simple (for Athena and Hephaestus kids anyway) magical algorithm Annabeth had taught him during the _Argo II's _construction. Otherwise, the most spankin' hot war machine ever made would never have even gotten off the ground.

Turning back, Leo realized that his new acquaintances might have needed a warning. The man's pale blue eyes were wide around as drachmas, and his hand had strayed to his sword in a white-knuckled grip. The girl's reaction was much the same, except rather than the fear the man showed, she seemed to really understand just exactly how awesome Festus was.

"Your dragon is an automaton?" she asked, voice full of wonderment.

"Yep," Leo said proudly. "And the best friend a guy could ask for. The big lug's saved my life more times than I'd care to count. Plus he comes in this handy travel-pack!" A high-pitch whistle came from the case as a jet of steam smacked Leo in the face. "Aw, c'mon, you know I was joking."

"So, Leo," the man spoke up, seemingly recovering from his shock. He had placed himself in front of the girl protectively, his hand still clutching his sword handle tightly. "Where do you come from, if you don't mind my asking."

Leo scratched his head, considering what to do. If he lied or told the truth, it might not make a difference. That worry tree in his guts made him think he might not even be in the same time anymore. Eventually, he said, "Well, I suppose I could tell you, but if my pessimistic alarm is right, I doubt it'd mean anything to you."

"What do you mean?" the girl asked. Well, _asked_ was too light. She spoke as if she was used to getting her way.

"I'm pretty sure you've never heard of where I'm from," Leo explained. "Just like I'm pretty sure I have no freakin' clue where you're from." He turned to the man and said, "You wouldn't happen to have a map or something like that lying around, would you?"

In short order, a map drawn on what Leo guessed was parchment was set on the deck before him. After studying the thing for any signs of the continents and countries he was used to, a sense of dread had begun to trail up that worry tree like a poisonous creeping vine.

"Shit."

He leaned back and took a moment to steady himself. _Think, Valdez. It's cool. You knew there'd be consequences to blowing up a goddess, just not quite the ones you were expecting. Instead of dying and coming back to life, maybe a few years into the future or the past, you've apparently found yourself on a different planet where they seem to have advanced to medieval technology. Oh, and there's also dragons and shit._

Opening his eyes, he realized that his hosts were giving him odd looks.

"Are you alright, ser?" the girl asked tentatively.

_Well, it won't do if they think I'm a psycho,_ Leo thought, mustering himself and shooting her a grin. "No worries, sweet-cheeks. I'm just great." _Never mind the fact that I've found myself in a high fantasy world,_ he thought dryly.

Before he could continue, the man stepped forward again, this time wearing a look that Leo interpreted as something an overbearing Papa Bear might use on an unsuspecting Teen Bear Heart-throb who'd set their sights on his Daughter Bear.

"Have care with how you speak," he growled. "Do you know whom you address so disrespectfully.

"Considering I've got no clue where the hell I am, are you really surprised I might not know who y'all are?" Leo shot back. He glanced at the girl and said, "Sorry if I hurt your feelings or whatever."

The man grasped Leo by his army jacket's collar and hoisted him up until he was dangling over the railing. "This is Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, and the Mother of Dragons! Show more respect before she has her children burn you to ashes."

Even moments from taking a dip in the drink, Leo just couldn't turn off his most favorite defense mechanism. Looking over the crazy man's shoulder, he said, "That's quite the mouthful. Isn't there something I could call you that won't take half an hour to say?"

He panicked when he felt the man's grasp begin to loosen, but the girl's voice cracked like a whip over the sound of the sea breeze. "Ser Jorah, set him down on the ship at once!"

The man glanced back at Daenerys and whatever he saw in her eyes was enough to haul Leo back aboard and drop him to the planks. Leo popped his collar to get the wrinkles out and shot him a smirk. "Thanks for showing me the view, Ser Jorah."

"Now bind him."

Leo's smile vanished and seemed to materialize upon Jorah's rugged face. "With pleasure, _khaleesi_."

In no time, Leo found himself at Daenerys' feet, hog-tied expertly with Festus-case too far away to reach. Her dragons sniffed at him curiously, their razor-sharp talons clacking against the wooden deck menacingly.

"If you wish to live, you will answer my questions truthfully," Daenerys commanded with no mercy in her tone. "As Ser Jorah asked before, where are you from?"

Leo thought about giving her a tough time just to be obstinate, but those claws didn't look very inviting. "Houston, Texas. I was born there, and lived with my mom until I was eight." He glanced up and saw matching looks of puzzlement on their faces. "Like I said, you've probably never heard of it."

A sharp point dug into his back as Jorah idly spun the tip of his dagger through his jacket's fabric. "Point it out on the map." The map was placed before him once again.

"If you had the right map, I'd be happy to, but it's not on that one," Leo replied. "I doubt any map you've got would, and if it did, I'd just about jump for joy." The steel cut through the jacket and into his skin, but Leo would be damned if he gave them the satisfaction. He'd dealt with a hell of a lot worse than a little dagger.

"So are we to just believe you fell from the heavens on the back of a mechanical dragon?" Daenerys demanded.

Leo couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, even if he regretted it when the knife drove a centimeter deeper into him. "It's not that far from what happened, to be honest."

"Do not mock me, boy!" Daenerys spoke with ice in her eyes. "Or I shall show you why they call me Mother of Dragons."

"Is it 'cause you squeezed out these little ones' eggs?" Leo asked cheekily. Daenerys' eyes moved to Jorah, and the knife withdrew. He felt a bead of blood leak down his spine, and shuddered. Jorah moved back into his line of sight and further away as the dragons circled more eagerly.

The ice in Daenerys' eyes had become flame, and Leo felt immediate and intense regret for that last crack about the eggs. She glanced to each of her dragons, then spoke a word Leo didn't understand. "Dracarys."

Dragon expressions were quite different from human ones, but Leo couldn't help but think that the little dragons had just smirked evilly at him. Then, they opened their maws and, one by one, blew their fiery breath at him.

It was certainly a different sensation from getting blasted by Festus. Whereas the automaton's fire stung a little bit, the only feeling from these organics' flame was a bit of a tickling, like they were trying to kill him with love or something stupid like that.

A choking sound began to emanate from the smaller dragons, and their breath petered out, followed a few seconds later by the big one ending his own tongue of fire. Leo felt the ropes binding him weaken as they smoked and smoldered, and quickly broke free, brushing the ashes off his clothes.

The pair who'd been interrogating him seemed to have been struck speechless. They stared at him and the blackened bit of deck he stood upon for nearly a minute straight without speaking or even blinking, jaws hanging loose and eyes wide.

Finally, Daenerys spoke, and her question, oddly enough, was, "Why didn't your clothes burn?"

Leo had often wondered the same question, and had asked all of his friends if they had any ideas. Annabeth had started on about her many theories and postulations concerning demigod abilities, but Percy (whose clothes didn't get wet if he took a dip), had just clapped him on the back and told him to roll with it.

"You know what? I haven't got the slightest idea," Leo answered, inspecting the tool belt for signs of damage.

Jorah sat down hard on the deck, looking more stunned than when Festus had folded up into a suitcase. The grizzled man looked up at Daenerys questioningly, but she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts.

The dragons, on the other hand, were just as delighted as when they'd flown up to Festus. They crawled up and around him, and Leo was reminded of all the alley cats he used to feed when he'd spent his days on the lam from CPS. He cautiously scratched under the green and bronze one's chin and was rewarded by a rumbling purr and a puff of smoke.

"You...are you of the blood of Old Valyria?" Daenerys asked hesitantly, some strange emotion swirling in her eyes.

"I don't know who Old Valeria is, but I used to have a great-aunt by that name," Leo said thoughtfully.

"I believe you misunderstand me," the girl said, brows furrowed in frustration. "Old Valyria was once an empire that spanned the known world, forged by the dragonlords of ancient times. When the Doom fell upon them, only a few managed to survive, among them my ancestor Aegon Targaryen. With his two sisters and their three dragons, they conquered the Seven Kingdoms and he became the first King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men." She paused, as if realizing that might have been a bit off topic, then rallied. "It is said that those who can trace their lineage back to Old Valyria were born with dragon's blood, and fire cannot harm them."

Leo nodded and said, "I can see why you might think that, but me being fireproof isn't 'cause I've got dragon blood in me. I mean, yeah, it was passed down from my father, but I'm one hundred and ten percent sure that he wasn't a dragon lord from Old Valyria."

"How can you be certain?" Daenerys asked, an almost pleading expression on her face. Leo felt bad; he knew what it was like to want family, or at least family who actually _wanted _you, but leading her on would only end badly.

"Look, my dad...he's..." Leo paused, wondering just how he was going to explain the world of gods and monsters to someone who'd never even heard of the Olympians, let alone what indoor plumbing was.

Then he realized that he was in a high fantasy world. They had dragons, Daenerys was apparently as fireproof as he was, and they knew what an automaton was even considering how relatively primitive their technology seemed to be. Maybe he could just tell them.

"So...where I'm from, there are beings called gods..."

* * *

"...so I called her Sludge-Face and exploded her, and now I'm here," he finished. It had taken nearly three hours, a taco dinner (thankfully Piper wasn't around to complain about the beef), and several demonstrations of his power, but he'd finally gotten the story out. It had actually been rather cathartic, if he was honest with himself. All that terrible crap he'd been put through didn't seem as bad just talking about it to someone who knew nothing about it (never mind the fact that there was probably still more to come).

Plus, during the meal when he'd been stuffing his face too full to continue speaking, Daenerys had given him a brief history of her own life, with Jorah piping up every once in a while to explain some concept of this new world Leo didn't understand. It had really put things in perspective for him, and had helped to get a better picture of his new environment.

"That is quite a tale," Jorah finally said in the quiet that had crept up. "I expect this Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter will be singing your praises for the next millennium at least."

Leo scratched his cheek to hide the blush. "I suppose so," he hedged uncomfortably. "I just hope they're all okay. I mean...the fire me and Festus made was hot enough to fuse Celestial bronze, and that stuff is ridiculously hard to melt. What if they didn't get far enough away, or..."

He trailed off when a pale hand reached over the table and grasped his own. "Your friends will be fine, Leo. You must worry about yourself for now, and once we find a way to get you home, then you can find out what happened after you exploded Gaea."

Leo glanced up at her. "We?"

"Of course," Daenerys said regally. "It is a queen's duty to assist those who require it, and if I am to be queen, then I must act like one."

Jorah nodded proudly, a wry smile twisting his lips. "You would also make a fine dragon-sitter. The last one was burned to a pile of ash."

Leo snorted. "Yeah, I'll just have to make sure to keep their talons away from me."

They fell into a comfortable silence in Daenerys' cabin, broken only by the soft hum of the crank-powered lantern he'd pulled from his tool-belt (and Leo would never be able to express how relieved he felt when he found that he could still get stuff from his own world).

"So first things first," Leo finally said. "How do you propose you fund an army? I mean, your end goal is to sit on this Iron Throne, but you won't be able to make it within a hundred miles of it if you don't have an army, from what you've told me."

"That is the reason we are heading toward Slaver's Bay," Jorah explained.

"Slaver's Bay sounds like a place to stay the hell away from, if you ask me," Leo replied dubiously.

"The nearest city to us is Astapor," Jorah said, shooting Leo an exasperated look, and Leo grinned; it seemed the old grizzly was already learning how to deal with him. "There, the Unsullied are trained. They are eunuch soldiers, trained from the age of five. It is said that three thousand Unsullied saved the city of Qohor from an army of twenty-thousand Dothraki screamers under _Khal _Temmo."

"Wait," Leo said, having only caught one bit of information from that short speech. "They get their nuts cut off? Why would their parents allow something like that!?"

"They are slave-soldiers," Jorah answered gravely. "Their parents have no say in what happens to them, only their masters. Slaver's Bay is called such for a reason, and they have become rich off the blood, sweat, and tears of those they have placed under their yoke."

Leo felt his hands clench into white-knuckled fists on their own. To a person like him, who was raised in a society where slavery was something that had all but been abolished and was looked upon with disgust and scorn, he couldn't quite understand the concept of an army composed of slaves. Doubly so when it turned out they got their sacks emptied at five years old.

He glanced to Daenerys, who had been quiet since she had offered her help. Her face was a porcelain mask, but her eyes were a turbulent storm of conflicting emotions. "And you're going to buy a slave army to take back your family's throne?" Leo asked, not fully able to keep the contempt from his voice.

"I will do what I must," she said after a moment, not looking up from her hands. "I am tired; today has been rather exhausting."

Leo knew a dismissal when he heard one. He stood up, looking toward Jorah as the warrior rose as well, but the older man didn't meet his gaze so instead he grasped the handle to Festus' case form and rolled him out of the cabin.

"Sweet dreams, _khaleesi_," he mumbled as he left, wondering just what the hell kind of messed up world he'd been dropped into this time.

* * *

**After-Action Report: **So, there it is. As I've said, I'm fairly new to Game of Thrones and A Song of Ice and Fire, and I've only just scratched the surface of that fandom's fanfiction archives. Having said that, I've read a few SI fics where the author avatar is perfectly cool with all sorts of things that modern culture finds utterly deplorable (casual murder, slavery, etc.). Leo's already discombobulated having found himself in an alternate reality entirely, but his new friend (who up until that point had seemed fairly sweet and nice despite having her dragons try to roast him) contemplating buying an army of slave-eunuchs will not sit well with him. Luckily, we already know Daenerys' stance on slavery.

Please do not ask what the pairing for this story will be, as I am not quite certain of it myself. Leo/Dany seems like a given, I suppose, but then again, before House of Hades, I'd assumed Leo/Piper was going to happen. Calypso was a curveball for certain. I mean, I get why Riordan did it, and it's a nice callback to the original series, but Leo/Calypso just doesn't sit right with me. The entire relationship occurred within a couple chapters out of five books, and it sort of detracts from the story as a whole.

But that's just me. And it's not like I'm not happy for everyone's favorite Repair Boy. Because I am. Really. This has nothing to do with the fact that I came up with the Leo/Artemis ship, like, a month before House of Hades sank it. Not at all.

Leo's tool-belt is probably the coolest thing ever, and I've had it continue to function as it did in the HoO series despite the fact that it is no longer in its native dimension. How does it work? I dunno, magic? Ask Riordan.

As for Daenerys and Jorah's easy acceptance of Leo's story: I mean, they've seen quite a bit, haven't they? The rebirth of dragons into their world, the dancing shadows conjured up by Mirri Maz Duur and her backstabbing ways, the warlocks of Quarth...they live in a time where magic is returning, and just about anything is possible, including a demigod and his automaton dragon popping into existence from another dimension/alternate reality/different timeline/whatever. It's not as though they're taking everything he says at face value, especially Jorah, but like he told Dany in Vaes Dothrak, he believes what his eyes tell him, and his eyes told him a hell of a convincing story.

Next chapter, Leo does some odd jobs to get material for Festus' repairs and Dany gets an army of dickless slaves!


End file.
